


Welcome Home

by JDaydreamer



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDaydreamer/pseuds/JDaydreamer
Summary: Set during S5 Ep3 the day Delia moves into Nonnatus House and she and Patsy are under the same roof at last.





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story for Call the Midwife but as I've fallen completely in love with Patsy and Delia, I feel compelled to write for them. They have added so much happiness to my life and they are too wonderful not to attempt writing for. I hope you enjoy this short story.

Patsy hastily parks her bicycle in the shed, unstrapping her medical bag and all but skipping towards Nonnatus House, passing Fred along the way with a quick hello as he mends a bicycle in the yard. She can’t contain her giddiness and bounds up the concrete steps, anxious to find out if Delia has arrived yet. She only received Delia’s letter yesterday afternoon informing her that she would be arriving by train today and should be at Nonnatus House by lunchtime. If Patsy had known sooner she would have made arrangements to take time off work to meet Delia at the train and accompany her home. Home. It’s not the flat they had attempted to share, but Nonnatus House has been home to Patsy more so than anywhere else she’s lived and she’s glad to share it with Delia now, however unconventional it may be for the lovers.

She sprints inside, coming to a halt at the sight of a few boxes and bags sitting against the wall of the entranceway. Delia is here at last. Setting her medical bag on the floor beside Delia’s things, Patsy is about to make her way towards the stairs when she hears Sister Monica Joan exclaim, “Oh, no!”

“Everything all right, Sister?” she asks.

“I was hoping for Fred. Someone has to tell him to bring some more of his wife’s homemade jam,” she says emphatically. “It all seems to have disappeared.”

Noticing the nun holds a spoon in one hand and an empty jam jar in the other, Patsy grins indulgently at the elderly nun. “I just saw him. I’m sure he won’t be long.”

“Well, I hope not,” Sister Monica Joan huffs before stalking off to the kitchen.

Patsy smiles watching the nun retreat then turns to run up the stairs, her long legs easily taking them two at a time and hurries down the hall to the bedroom she knows has been prepared for Delia. She halts at the open doorway breathless not from her jaunt but rather at the sight of the petite brunette holding a box in her arms, who turns at the sound of Patsy’s footsteps. Blue eyes gaze up to meet Patsy, their depths soft with happiness and love. Patsy wants nothing more than to take Delia into her arms and give her a proper welcome with a languid kiss but they aren’t alone. Sister Mary Cynthia stands just behind Delia, showing her the accommodations.

“Hello,” Patsy greets instead, her lips pulling into a wide smile that won’t be contained.

Delia answers with a wide grin of her own, dimples flashing.

Realizing she’s staring, Patsy quickly shakes her head and says, “Ah, I saw the bags.”

Glancing at the box in her arms, Delia tells her, “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot to tidy away.”

“Well luckily, that’s my forte,” Patsy says taking the box of books from Delia’s hands and crossing the room to begin sorting them onto shelves.

“It looks like you’re in good hands,” Sister Mary Cynthia smiles at Delia. “I’ll just leave you to get settled but lunch will be ready in a few moments so don’t get too carried away with the sorting just yet. And Mrs. B has prepared a cake especially for your arrival.”

“How lovely of her. I’ll have to thank her,” Delia says. “It’s Mrs. B’s cooking that is part of the reason Mam allowed me to come back to London and live here at all. Having experienced her cooking firsthand, she’s at least convinced I won’t starve to death since my own cooking abilities are rather limited I’m afraid.”

Sister Mary Cynthia smiles at the comment. “Well you must come down soon then, to make sure you have a slice of cake before Sister Monica Joan has more than her share.”

“A valid warning,” Patsy interjects with a grin. “I just met her in the hall on the way upstairs, an empty jar of Violet’s jam in hand. Nothing sweet is sacred within these walls.”

Delia laughs. “In that case, we won’t linger too long then,” she tells the young nun before she departs.

At the nun’s exit, Patsy watches as Delia turns and slowly approaches her with purpose in her step, blue eyes shining with such love it steals Patsy’s breath away.

“You’re here,” Patsy whispers, feeling Delia’s hand at her waist, pulling her close.

“I am. And so are you,” she says, eyes flicking to Patsy’s lips. She leans forward, her intent clear. Their lips are a breath apart when footsteps and voices sound in the hall.

“Trixie, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I just need to shower before lunch. I don’t want everyone to lose their appetites from the smell,” she says, the disgust in her voice evident.

With a glance at the still opened door, Patsy quickly extracts herself from Delia’s arms, a look of regret and self-admonishment passing through her eyes as she steps away from Delia’s side. Now more than ever she can’t afford to be so careless where Delia is concerned, no matter how enticing the Welshwoman may be, not if they want to go on as they are.

“If you’re sure?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Barbara, for the last time, it isn’t your fault that I’m the one that was in the direct line of fire for Mrs. Clancy’s… _upheaval._ If you’re so intent on helping me, I’ll leave my uniform on the floor outside the bathroom and you can make sure it gets to the laundry for me.”

“Of course.”

Delia can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips at Trixie’s predicament and meets Patsy’s mirthful eyes. As nurses, they’ve all been in Trixie’s position on more than one occasion.

“Oh, hello…I mean good afternoon,” Barbara greets from the open doorway. “It’s lovely to see you again, Delia. Patsy told us only last night you would be arriving today. Trixie would have stopped to say hello too but she has more urgent matters to attend to at the moment.”

“Yes, we heard,” Patsy grins. “Poor Trixie, she does rather seem to have a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. How bad was it this time?”

“Well it didn’t reach her shoes. Be grateful for small favors I always say.”

“Absolutely,” Patsy replies seriously.

Delia stifles another laugh.

“How are you fitting in, Delia? Do you need help moving the rest of your things upstairs?” Barbara asks.

“Well I’ve only just arrived but everyone has been so kind. As for moving my things, I can manage it after lunch. You’ve all been working so hard already, I don’t want to add to your burden.”

“It’s no burden at all, Nurse Busby,” Patsy says brightly. “After all, many hands make light work. But I’m afraid it will have to be put aside until after lunch. Sister Evangelina doesn’t take well to tardiness, even at meal times. Best not to get on her bad side your first day. Are you coming with us, Babs?” she asks starting for the door.

“I’ll have to collect Trixie’s uniform first to add to the laundry then I’ll be down.”

Delia follows Patsy out of the bedroom and downstairs to the large dining area. The table is already set and Sister Winifred and Sister Mary Cynthia are bringing the food to the table.

“Nurse Busby, so nice to see you again,” an older woman heartily greets her.

“Thank you, Nurse Crane, I’m happy to be back.”

“I trust you left your mother well?”

“As well as can be expected considering she still wasn’t keen on me returning to London.”

“Ah, mothers are complex creatures. They strive to protect their young at all costs, sometimes not realizing what it costs their young in doing so. Good on you for following your heart, kid,” she nods approvingly. “We’re all happy for your recovery and your return, though none more so than Nurse Mount here I suppose, isn’t that right?” she addresses the red-haired woman.

“Yes, quite,” Patsy breathes, startled by the look of sympathy in the older nurse’s eyes.

Nurse Crane merely nods, turning to the table to grab a piece of celery to chew on. “It appears I’ve worked up an appetite on my day off,” she smiles, taking a seat at the table.

“Nurse Busby, I’m so glad you’ve joined us at last,” Sister Julienne warmly greets the young nurse upon entering the dining room. She takes Delia’s hands between her own. “We’re all extremely grateful for your recovery.”

“Thank you, Sister, as am I,” Delia smiles, her eyes quickly searching out Patsy’s before meeting the nun’s once again. “And I’m very glad to be here. It was so kind of you to invite me to board at Nonnatus House,” Delia tells her.

“You’re most welcome. Any friend of Nurse Mount’s is a friend of us all,” Sister Julienne says with an affectionate look at Patsy. “Your presence has been sorely missed,” she confides. “Now, come sit down to lunch both of you, you must be famished.”

Patsy leads Delia to a chair beside her own at the table. A prayer of thanks is spoken before they all delve into the meal. The time passes pleasantly. Trixie now clean and changed into a fresh uniform also has a change of mood and regales them all with tales of her earlier misfortune that emits laughter from everyone at the table. “Delia, now that you’re here, you’ll have to join my Keep Fit class like Patsy and Barbara.”

“Join?” Patsy says exasperated. “Incessant cajoling until we gave in is more accurate I think, Trixie,” Patsy tells the blonde woman amid Barbara’s nod of affirmation.

“I still haven’t gotten used to the leotard,” Barbara complains.

“A leotard, really?” Delia asks eyeing Patsy beside her. “I think I’ll have to have a good look at this leotard you wear before I agree to anything,” she says with a wink that goes completely unobserved by everyone at the table but whom it was intended for and Delia grins when she sees a blush creep into Patsy’s cheeks.

After lunch, all the nurses help carry the remainder of Delia’s things upstairs to her room, departing with a quick goodbye to get back to their afternoon rounds. Only Patsy lingers. “Will you be alright here alone?” she asks biting her lip in uncertainty.

“In this house full of nuns, I’ll hardly be alone, Pats,” Delia teases.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Besides, I’ve got lots to do with unpacking.”

“Deels, please don’t overwork yourself. I know you’ve had an early morning and a long journey, rest now. I can help you unpack this evening.”

Delia nods. “I have to admit, a nap does sound tempting,” she says sitting down upon the bed.

Patsy smiles. “Well, sparing any emergencies or last minute babies that decide they must absolutely be born during my shift, I should be back in time for dinner. And I’m not on call tonight, so as long as we don’t have an influx of expectant mothers going into labor, I’m all yours for the evening.”

“All mine, I like the sound of that,” Delia grins.

Patsy arches a brow at the tease, glancing behind her at the open doorway. “Yes, well…on that note, I think I best be off,” Patsy stammers under Delia’s heated gaze.

“Have a good afternoon, Pats, and hurry back.”

“I will.”

* * *

Cycling back to Nonnatus House after her last house call of the day, Patsy passes by the same neighborhoods, shops and vendors as she does everyday. But tonight, the sight of the flower vendor recalls a bittersweet remembrance.

_And I want the only flowers to be real flowers. Over there, on that windowsill where they’ll catch the light each morning when the sun comes up._

Turning her bicycle around, Patsy cycles back to the flower vendor. She doesn’t know much at about flowers, hardly able to discern a weed from a flower in a garden any more than Sister Monica Joan, but she takes great care in selecting a small bouquet for Delia, finally settling on some pretty flowers that are yellow (Delia’s favorite color) and purple (Patsy’s favorite color on Delia).

She manages to make it to the clinical room without detection, quickly cleaning her medical tools and packing them neatly away for use again in the morning. But walking through the main house with a bouquet of flowers is another matter. Patsy knew it would be no use trying to hide them. There are simply too many observant eyes to escape detection. So instead she walks confidently through the main hall holding the brightly colored flowers for all in the house to see.

“Flowers! Oh how lovely,” Trixie enthuses from the sitting room when she catches sight of the bouquet Patsy holds in her arms. “I know better than to ask you if they’re a gift from an admirer so does this mean you’re finally treating yourself, Patsy?”

“Actually these are for Delia,” Patsy says, willing her voice to sound perfectly calm and not betray the giddiness she can feel just bubbling under the surface. “I thought it might be a nice gesture for her first night here and something to help brighten her room with. Where is she?” she asks glancing about the room.

“Still in her room, I believe. Dinner isn’t quite ready and I told her I’d call for her when it was. Since you’re on your way upstairs anyway, would you mind bringing her down with you after you’ve changed?”

“Certainly,” Patsy agrees. As she climbs the stairs, Patsy knows she should change out of her uniform first but the pull of seeing Delia is too strong to ignore so she decides instead to stop at her door.

“Pats!” Delia greets her after answering the knock on her door. “Oh, Pats, are those for me?” she asks noticing the flowers.

“Yes,” Patsy answers, giving the bouquet to Delia, their fingers brushing in the exchange. “I passed a flower vendor on my way home and remembered your fondness for them. I thought perhaps they might catch the light from the sun in the morning, just as you wanted…before.”

Delia’s eyes soften at the memory. “They certainly will. Thank you.”

“I trust you’ve had a good afternoon?”

“Yes. I did rest as you suggested but after I awoke I managed to get most of my things tidied away, though there’s still a little more to be done.”

“Well, I must change out of my uniform before dinner but afterward I’ll find a vase for the flowers and we can finish unpacking the rest of your things. I’ll knock for you in a few minutes and we can go downstairs together,” Patsy says before rushing down the hall to her bedroom. She changes out of her uniform quickly, carefully hanging it in her closet before slipping into jeans and a soft, checkered blouse. Unpinning her hair from its tight bun, she takes care to brush out the lacquer so that red strands fall softly onto her shoulders.

After a quiet dinner, Patsy finds a vase in the kitchen to fill with water, carefully carrying it upstairs to Delia’s room where she sets about arranging the flowers while Delia flitters about the room, putting away various items.

The wireless hums in the corner of the room, The Shirelles softly crooning the melody of _Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow._

“You must be exhausted now,” Delia comments, straightening a picture frame on top of her bureau as she watches Patsy arrange the flowers into the vase.

“I must be,” Patsy sighs in concession. “But I don’t feel it.” Given the long day she’s worked and the late hour now, she should be entirely exhausted as Delia says but instead she feels her pulse quicken at the sound of Delia’s voice and the faint scent of her perfume that lingers in the air. Delia is here with her. After everything they’ve gone through. After Delia’s accident, her memory loss and months of being apart, they are finally together again by the grace of God it would seem. Or at least the grace of Sister Julienne who encouraged Delia to stay at Nonnatus House and Mrs. Busby’s concession that her only daughter would be well taken care of living in a nunnery of all places.

“There,” Patsy says at last satisfied with the flower arrangement. She leaves them on the desk to sit beside Delia now sitting on the bed, leaning back on her hands to look over at the flowers. Sighing, Patsy says, “I’ve waited such a long time to sit beside you looking at a bunch of flowers in a vase,” she says thinking back to all those months ago and the one afternoon they shared together in their own flat.

Delia smiles thinking of that same afternoon. “Under the same roof at last,” she says leaning into Patsy. “Just you and me.” Quickly realizing the inaccuracy of that statement she amends, “And Trixie…and Barbara…and Nurse…”

“Nurse Crane,” they finish together, Patsy laughing.

“And quite a few nuns,” Delia says, her lips quirking into a smile before joining in Patsy’s laughter and the absurdity of their situation. They’re not alone at all in this house full of women. But they are together. The laughter subsides as quickly as it began as two pair of blue eyes stare longingly at one another.

“I love it when you wear your hair down,” Delia says quietly, lifting a hand to filter her fingertips through auburn strands.

Patsy closes her eyes at the gentle touch and when she opens them again it’s to see Delia’s eyes have fallen to her lips in a silent plea. Giving in to the longing they both feel, Patsy leans forward, pressing her lips to Delia’s in a fervent kiss. She feels Delia cup her cheek to bring her closer, deepening their kiss. A kiss that conveys months of separation, fear, doubt, worry, desire and above all else, love, love, _love._

They’re both breathless when they finally find the strength to part from the kiss, though not each other and tears glimmer in their eyes.

Her voice hoarse with emotion, Patsy says, “I know it’s not the flat we had before, the life we planned exactly, but… _welcome home_.”

Delia smiles softly, leaning her forehead against Patsy’s. “I don’t care if it does sound like a cliché. Home for me will always be wherever you are, Pats.”

“I’m the same,” Patsy whispers.

 


End file.
